


Mystery Man

by Rosella92



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Background Relationships, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Young Mycroft Holmes/Young Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosella92/pseuds/Rosella92
Summary: The new boy in school is handsome, mysterious, and supposedly dangerous. Luckily, Greg likes mysteries, and challenges...





	1. Chapter 1

_"Um...hello."_  
_"I love your suit."_   
_"So, are you in 13th year too? Must be rough, being the new guy..."_   
_"I've seen you around. My name's Greg, by the way..."_

_Ugh. No.  
_

Greg chewed the last bite of his lunch and tried to listen to his friends talk about their plans for the weekend. Mooning over the new guy at school (as he had done for the past couple days, ever since he saw him) was pathetic and useless. Christ, he didn't even know his _name_.

The guy - the _gorgeous_ guy - sat by himself in the school cafeteria every day. He read his book and ate sparingly. Once done he would take his book and leave. 

Greg imagined approaching him and somehow charming his way into a conversation, then a date, but he couldn't. He had a horrible feeling he'd just be rejected. 

Besides, mystery man was clearly out of Greg's league. Greg had dated boys and girls before, different types, but this one was different. Sexy, clearly brilliant, introverted (or just shy?). Tall, thin, red hair with an adorable curl in front that Greg just wanted to play with. Gorgeous angular features, light colored eyes, long legs and fingers...

"Greg!"

"What?" he yelled, startled, and his friends burst out laughing. Jerks. 

"Oh wow. You were on another planet, mate!" Shelly snorted. "Bet I know what was on your mind."

"Shut up." Greg scowled at the table. 

Ryan nudged him. "C'mon, Greg, just say hi. He's by himself, reading. He's probably bored."

"He's not. Shut up." Greg felt his face heat and he took a drink of water. "What's going on with Saturday plans?"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Nathan pointed at him. "You, get your arse over there. Now. Or I'll do it."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Oh, god. Stop this. I'm fucking serious."

"Hey! Small demon alert!" Jessie threw a straw at Greg. "Watch your language. No corrupting innocent youth!"

"Innocent? Ha! John is in fact a demon." Shelly grinned and reached out for her approaching younger brother, who looked irritated. "Oi, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," John mumbled, and shrugged. "Harry took my lunch money again. Left an IOU note in my locker."

"That bitch!" Shelly sighed and got up. "C'mon, you'll use my meal card. And I'll be talking to Mum tonight about our cow of a sister!"

John followed her, protesting that it would just make things worse, and Greg smiled after them. His own little brother Sam was in another lunch period, and sometimes Greg wished they could share one, but then he'd have to deal with even more teasing about his crush. 

"Ohhhh. Interesting." Jessie tilted her head. "Hey Greg, your man has company."

Greg whirled around, and saw that yes, the tall gorgeous man had someone sitting across from him. A younger man, maybe about John's age - thirteen, maybe - with wild curly black hair, the same long limbs, eating chips one by one as if they were a delicacy. He kept gesturing to other students and smirking. 

His friend, Greg's crush - Gorgeous, as Greg mentally dubbed him - seemed to be ignoring him at first, reading his book and not even looking at the young boy. Then Greg saw he'd occasionally speak, usually resulting in the younger bit scowling. 

A friend? Boyfriend? No, too young. Brother?

"Greg!" Jessie sighed. "Mate, you're staring. Again."

"Oh. Right."

Before Greg could look away, the younger boy returned his gaze, squinted, then smirked. Greg's heart rate sped up as the boy muttered something that made Gorgeous snap his head up from his book and stare directly at Greg with an intense expression.

Greg looked away, his pulse pounding. "Shit! Are they looking...?"

"Yup." Nathan waved and grinned.

"Stop waving, you arse!" 

"Just being friendly. Oh look, now one of them is coming over."

"What?" Greg stared at his friend in horror. "Christ, you can't be serious."

Jessie shook her head. "I have never seen you this flustered, Lestrade. You must really be keen on this one."

"I'm fine!" Greg protested, and braced himself before turning around.

It was the young boy, staring at Greg intensely. 

"Hello. I'm Jessie, this is Nathan and that's Greg." Jessie beamed at the young boy, who only kept staring at Greg. "And, uh, you are...?"

The boy looked Greg up and down, then seemed to stare at his trainers, then chuckled. "Oh, very interesting," he muttered, then turned around and walked back to his table. 

Silence followed until Nathan cleared his throat. "Well. That was... different."

"Did he do the thing?" John was back with a tray full of food. He sat next to his sister, who stole a cookie with a grin.

"What thing?" Greg asked, turning to the young boy. "That was a thing he does?"

"That's Sherlock Holmes. He's in my chemistry class. He sits next to me. Sometimes he'll do this thing where he can tell all about a person from tiny things, like how your shirt is wrinkled or how you move you hands when you talk. It's actually pretty impressive." John took a bite of his sandwich. "I guess that other guy's his brother?"

"Brother?" _I knew it!_ Greg tried to act nonchalant. "Holmes, huh? What's the brother's first name?"

John shrugged. "Sherlock doesn't like talking about him. He said he was fat, but Sherlock exaggerates. That guy doesn't look fat at all. But anyway, he's dangerous."

"What?" Shelly frowned. "Why is Sherlock's brother dangerous?"

"I have no idea. Sherlock said he's interning at places no one even knows about and he's the most dangerous man in the world."

Everyone scoffed, but Greg got a bit of a thrill. Sam exaggerated too, but that was probably something all younger siblings did. According to his little brother, Greg dated half the world and was so obsessed with true crime that he knew everything there was to know about murder. Of course, Greg had a few boyfriends and girlfriends, and yeah, was really interested in criminology, but he wasn't Mr. Casanova or a criminal expert. It was just little brother hyperbole.

But Greg had the feeling that Sherlock wasn't just exaggerating. The elder Holmes seemed intelligent, was obviously mysterious, and carried himself like royalty. 

Was he dangerous...?

"Oh! He's back!" 

This time Greg turned, and saw that the other brother was already leaving. The young one - Sherlock - approached the table with a purposeful stride.

He stopped in front of Greg, then handed him a note. "Don't be late," he intoned, then nodded at John. John smiled and waved, and Greg could have sworn Sherlock blushed a bit before he scurried off. 

"Ohh! This is interesting!" Jessie proclaimed as Shelly smirked at her oblivious brother. "Read it, Greg!"

"Um..."

"At least tell us if younger brother asked you out instead," Nathan quipped.

Greg unfolded the note, holding it away from his friends and ignoring their sighs.

**Gregory Lestrade. You often take your sycophantic younger brother out for milkshakes after school on Fridays, but today you shall take him home and go to the lab at St. Bartholomew's Hospital on Brealey street. Arrive by 6 pm. Ignore this message at your own peril. - SH**


	2. Chapter 2

"This is weird," Greg muttered as Sherlock Holmes examined pictures of diseased flesh. The lab was cold and reeked of formaldehyde and cleaning alcohol. Greg felt exposed, somehow.

He could be enjoying a chocolate shake right now. Instead, he was in a lab with a strange boy, who kept asking him about his mental state and eyesight.

It was an interesting way to start a weekend.

"I asked you here to help you." Sherlock looked up at him, squinting. "You wish to have intercourse with my brother."

Greg's jaw dropped. "I..."

"Ugh. It is disgusting and apparent. Your lecherous stares are pornographic in nature. However, it seems your physical desires are aligned with general romantic notions."

"Er. Yeah, I like him."

Sherlock snorted. "And yet you swear that you do not have a mental disorder."

"No!"

"And you're quite insistent that your eyesight is not failing."

Greg sighed. As far as first meetings went, this one with Sherlock Holmes took first prize for most bizarre. "Sherlock, there's nothing wrong with me finding your brother attractive."

"You are delusional," the boy murmured as he examined something under a microscope. "Nonetheless, I have a proposition for you. An arrangement that shall benefit us both."

Greg crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. This boy was rude, no doubt, and utterly dramatic, but he was interesting. Plus he was related to the sexiest man Greg had ever seen, so he was intrigued by the notion. "All right, what is it?"

Sherlock looked up from his microscope, then looked away, clearing his throat. "You...are familiar with the intricacies of courtship. That is, a social companionship, of a... delicate nature."

Greg smirked. "Have I dated people? The answer is yes."

The boy shifted his weight. "I myself have not experienced such...things."

"....I see."

Sherlock cleared his throat again. "You are... familiar with a younger sibling of your friend. John Watson."

Greg stared at him, then chuckled. "Oh! You fancy John!"

"Er..." Sherlock looked flustered. "I..."

"Well, good thing he's like me then, yeah? Likes blokes and birds. Oh, this is adorable. You really do have it for him, don't you?"

"Hush," Sherlock snapped, turning bright red. "If you shall mock me, then I shall rescind my offer for you to receive assistance in familiarizing yourself with my brother!"

"Whoa, whoa." Greg held his hands up. "Not making fun, I just think it's sweet. So...you want me to help you with John, right? And in turn, you'll help me get to know Mycroft?"

Sherlock huffed. "To put it in ridiculously simple terms...yes."

"Great!" Greg held his hand out for a shake. "It's a deal."

"Ugh." Sherlock waved his hand away. "You will not touch me. Now, let us discuss habits. I am aware that John Watson is fond of food, but you will give me details on the sort of foods he favors."

"Okay. And Mycroft...?"

"He is fond of all foods. The fact that you have not noticed his obvious gluttony is alarming."

"Ha. Seriously, though...."

Sherlock sighed. "Holland Park. Tomorrow. Three o'clock. Go to the bench overlooking the pond, the one donated in the name of the Rilker family. Bring a book. One without pictures, Lestrade. A proper book."

"I read books!" Greg glared at the boy, then paused. "Wait. Will Mycroft be there?"

_"Obviously."_

"Okay, good. And, hey, John loves chocolate chip cookies with walnuts. Homemade treats go a long way. Maybe leave some in his locker...wait, no, you'll need his combination..."

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "I need no such thing. But, ah, a note...?"

" 'From a secret admirer'?"

"Ugh. Lestrade."

"Okay, tell him they're from you."

"No!" The boy's eyes grew wide. "What if he..."

"Good god. Okay, we'll work on that. Now, about tomorrow..."

~~~•••~~~

At three o'clock the next day, Greg found himself in Holland Park, clutching a copy of Cyrano de Bergerac, feeling overwhelmed. He strolled for a while, enjoying the scenery and pretending that he wasn't looking for Mycroft Holmes, that he was here to just enjoy a nice day out and get some reading in. He found the Rilker bench and sat down, staring at the pond and listening to the people around him. Couples, mostly. Greg imagined himself here with Mycroft, already dating, familiar enough to hold hands and laugh together.

Was it a stupid fantasy? Mycroft was way out of his league. Maybe this was just all wishful thinking.

Three o'clock passed, and by three fifteen Greg resigned himself to a lonely afternoon. Maybe Sherlock got his time wrong, or was just messing with him? At this point, it didn't matter. Greg sighed and began reading. Might as well try to salvage the day and not feel too much like a rejected idiot.

A few minutes passed, and then someone approached, then stopped abruptly. Greg looked up, about to greet the approaching stranger when he found himself looking up at a startled Mycroft Holmes, clutching his own book.

"Oh! Um, hi." Greg smiled and tried to project a calm image, even though his heart was pounding. "Sorry if I'm in your space."

"It is quite all right." _That voice._ Mycroft had never spoken to him directly before. It was a bit terrifying. "Perhaps...we may share the bench?"

"Sure!" Greg resisted the urge to pat the space next to him, and tried not to stare at the gorgeous man sat next to him, careful not to sit too closely.

"Thank you." Mycroft turned to his book - Maurice by E.M. Forster, Greg noted with delight - and began reading. 

Greg turned away. He couldn't stare, or just sit there. Slowly he opened his own book, and tried to read while being hyperaware of the man next to him.


End file.
